


The Color Of Disgust

by nextdoorneighbor



Series: Weird Things From Inside My Head Oops (WTFIMHO) [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Feelings, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oops, What Have I Done, enjoy, everything in this has a meaning btw, if you want to read it like that - Freeform, it's 2am, lapslock, not up to me though think what you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextdoorneighbor/pseuds/nextdoorneighbor
Summary: the colors are the only thing he can trust and the only thing he wants to get rid of. maybe it's just him though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to God, I was going to continue my Baekxing fic but??? this happened??? I don't even know. I know I said it in the tags but this is what my mind looks like, I'm sorry. It's a mess. Hope you read it till the end ((((and just saying, it would be really nice if you commented something because this important to me and yeah))))

”hey,” he hears, looks up, there are words stuck on his long hair, the wind brushing his cheeks, and jisoo smiles

”sit with me?” he asks and the other complies. the grass is the color of grimace and their fingertips touch a little, the other maybe seeing the color of softness on jisoo’s cheeks. the words fall with the wind even thought he’d like to keep them in his hair, like jisoo wants this feeling to stay inside. he can’t catch them even though they fall onto the ground

jeonghan sits with grief. “you ever think about the rain?” the question gets swiped with the wind but he just catches it. he looks at jeonghan; he’s the color of unsaid words

jisoo is the color of ending

“does it even want to fall?” jisoo spots a word in his hair, ‘excruciating’. he wants to pick it out. ‘too young,’ he thinks, tracing the line of his eyelid. it’s the color of a lie. he wants to feel their lips meet, even just once. how would it feel? jisoo laughs when he spots the flower tucked behind the other’s ear. it’s the same he saw yesterday night on his bathroom floor

jeonghan smiles, they are so close suddenly

“why is that you laugh? you think i’m that odd?” jisoo shakes his head once, looks away, in font, down the hill, up the tree, to the sky

“you are the least odd,” he claims, quiet, and jeonghan just hears before it’s gone with the wind like everything else. He wants the feeling gone with the wind too.

he wakes up to jeonghan’s head on his palm. so close, yet so far. still at the hill, they didn’t change, even though the time did

jisoo’s mind was the same color as his button up. he wonders if the other sees the petals the same color as lust gathered around him when he looks. he could try asking. there is a chance he thinks jisoo took the flower once his and tore it apart. so he doesn’t ask, even when the other wakes up and sees. he looks like death itself. 

fingers laced together, the color of remorse tinting both of their cheeks. giggles. they fall. or he falls and because of the fingers, jeonghan falls too. it’s the same spot, the sun rising after a cold, long night, toxic running inside their veins, and he wants to tell him how his lungs are on fire when his with him, and when his not. the thought goes with the wind, his head filled with jeonghan's smile. it’s jeonghan’s hand on his chest, pushing himself up, and now he sees only the sky lighting up

side by side. he’s on the wrong side, they are never like this, it’s changed. “where is it you are going?” the color of unsaid words and murdered birds asks; it’s the toxic running down his cheek 

“why’d you ask” 

“you matter”

“not enough,” he says. it’s true. and the toxic running down his cheek again, only to be caught by the color of unsaid words, murdered birds, and bright feelings’ fingertips, making him gasp 

“there’s more that you want?” he hears and he shakes his head. “then what?” there’s more that i need. 

the breath leaving his mouth is the color of unread books. the color of unread books and killed dreams. the color of a smile yet again lying on his wrong side. the spot is still the same. the sun is setting behind the trees and he knows it’s his last

he turns to the other, only to find their dry lips touch, and the other pulling away at the second, willing to eat the grass under him. it’s too late anyway 

“you are everything”

“no”

“to me”

“why wouldn’t you say earlier”

“you don’t feel the same,” he says and sees the color of broken trust roll down the other’s cheek. “you shouldn’t paint your pretty face like that,” he says quietly and pulls at his jaw, their lips gracing again. he closes his eyes and colors mix

the color of disgust is all he can feel as he lies down, letting the wind take him

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dead.


End file.
